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christmas poem

o que mim lhe devem
eu moldei o mundo
eu sei não onde
nós que estiveram
dê-me
uma tempestade está montando na maré
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays
era uma oysterman novo alto
macia agora a luz do dia
acima dos prados ricos com milho
se eu souber o narrow uma prisão é amor

 



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